


Reflections

by mrs_theirin



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, aka Varric is very patient and loving, but like magic self harm, she only mentions it at the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:00:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26280766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_theirin/pseuds/mrs_theirin
Summary: What happens when the ever-joking Eden Hawke can't find the joke anymore? Varric visits her home in hopes of a warm night; he instead finds her in the worst state he's ever seen her in.
Relationships: Female Hawke/Varric Tethras, Hawke/Varric Tethras
Kudos: 24





	Reflections

**Author's Note:**

> Set in Act 3; a few weeks after "when i'm far too gone, can you show me love?"
> 
> I apologize in advance.

“Hey, Hawke, you in here? Bodahn told me the mages have moved out for the week, is it because the Templars—Eden?”

Varric watched Eden turn towards him, her tears glistening in the moonlight. He could see that her hair didn’t fall over her shoulders like it usually did; it was instead choppy and short, and his eyes moved to the floor to see most of it laying there. Her shaky hand was holding shears. He made his way over to her, trying to ignore how violently her body flinched as he approached, and took the shears out of her hand.

“Did you hurt yourself?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Varric cringed. Her voice sounded so broken, like she had been screaming for the past few hours. Maybe she had. Bodahn had said he had just gotten home a few minutes ago; if she had been screaming, no one would’ve known. “Where?” He tried to keep his voice level.

She moved her fingers through her short hair, tugging at it, then knocked on the side of her head twice. “Here.”

“How—”

“Magic. That—” She paused, trying to hold back a sob. “The horror. I thought if I forced myself to think of worse things, it would stop, but—”

She succumbed to a fit of sobs, her body shaking violently as she struggled to stay quiet. Varric rushed to close the door to her bedroom, then returned to her side. He sat next to her on the bed, sliding his hand into hers, which she squeezed tightly as she cried. It was hard to watch. Eden Hawke was a strong, confident, fearless woman. He had seen her upset before, but never anything like this.

“Eden.” His voice was soft. “Are you telling me you used your horror spell on  _ yourself?”  _

She nodded, her face in her hand. “It was a mistake,” she whispered. “It just made things worse.”

“Tell me what’s going on, Quill.” 

She yanked her hand away at that, scooting away from him. “You should just go. This was never going to work out anyway.”

Varric’s heart stopped, but he pushed through. “I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re okay. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“Why not?” she grumbled, still facing away from him. “I killed my papa. I almost killed my brother. My sister’s in the one place we fought to keep her away from for so long. My mother is dead and it’s my fault.”

His heart raced at the mention of her father, but he decided not to press it. You can’t force a story out of anyone. “Qu—”

She turned to him abruptly, catching him off guard. “You’d better run. I’m sure within a week you’ll be dead too.” She hung her head, voice breaking. “Just like the rest of them.”

“Eden—”

“I need to hug him. He told me—” She paused to cry a bit longer. “He—”

“Junior doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“No, he doesn’t. Which is why it hurts more that he would think it was my fault. But it makes sense. It was my fault when Papa died.”

“Eden, I’m sure—”

She stood, the bed shaking with the force of the action. “No, Varric. You don’t  _ know.  _ You weren’t there. I’ve never told the fucking story because I  _ hate  _ myself for it. Can you imagine what it’s like to watch your father die because of you? To watch him save your life and lose his in the process?”

“Eden—”

“Stop, Varric. This isn’t just another story you can hide with jokes and fake laughter. This is real.”

Immediately Varric’s pain shifted to anger. “You don’t think my shit is real? You hide too, Hawke. It’s not exclusive to charming dwarves.”

She laughed, a horrible screeching sound that sounded more like a scream than a laugh. “See? There you go again! You can never stop, can you? Maybe if you—if you crack so many jokes, it’ll make the pain go away, right? It’ll bring Papa back, right? It’ll—”

She broke down again, dropping to her knees, sobbing into Varric’s lap. He stroked her hair. She wasn’t angry at him, despite her insistence she was talking about him. No, she was using him as a mirror, as a way to hate herself through someone else. He knew what that was like.

“We’re too alike,” she muttered.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Varric chuckled, although his heart wasn’t in it.

“No,” she cried, emphasizing the word. “It means I’ll hate you, eventually. And I don’t want to hate you.”

“You don’t have to hate me. You don’t have to hate yourself either. Leandra’s death wasn’t your fault.”

She looked up at him and the look on her face shattered his heart into a million pieces. It was impossible to watch her like this, to see tears roll down her face, to see the new scar on her lip he didn’t notice before. “I saw them. Way before. I can’t—I can’t stop thinking about Ninette. I  _ knew.  _ I knew this man was out there, and I  _ joked about it.”  _

He watched her tremble, falling victim to another fit of sobs. “You didn’t know, Eden.”

“I—”

“Eden. You’re going to be okay. I want you to get up and sit next to me. Please.”

She hesitated, her face still in his lap, before slowly standing and sitting on the bed. She looked down at her hands. Varric reached over and grabbed one tightly, squeezing it. She glanced over at him, looking absolutely miserable; red eyes, uneven hair, smudged makeup. “What?” she muttered, hopeless and broken.

“You don’t have to feel better. Let’s get rid of your hair. Let’s get you into a warm bath, okay? I’ll tell Bodahn to—”

He stopped as Eden moved forward, kissing him deeply. He just held her hand tighter, letting her kiss him, but not pushing her. The last thing he wanted to do was push her. He pulled away as she grabbed his hand and placed in on her chest, pulling his hand away.

“No, Eden.”

“Please,” she whispered against his lips, her eyes still closed.

He moved his hand to her cheek and she whimpered at his loving touch. “Clean up your hair. I’ll tell Bodahn to draw a bath.”

She nodded her head. “I love you, Varric.”

“Shit, Quill. I love you too.”

With another kiss, Varric left the room, telling the other dwarf to start a warm bath. The two spent the night recovering and fixing her hair, and by the next day, Eden was smiling and boasting about her new haircut. He watched her, a deep pain in his chest, as she hid behind jokes and flirting.

It was like looking into a mirror.  


**Author's Note:**

> I'll write some indulgent family fluff later I promise adkjglhlkgda I was really feeling it lately. I hate to see Eden in pain, but there really is a lot going on behind the scenes with her. The story behind Malcolm will be out soon, keep an eye out for that! Thanks for reading <3


End file.
